OUt of the Ordinary
by NeverWakingUpFromThisDream
Summary: "If this was your last night to live, what would you do?" The childhood friends from District 2 have a talk the night before the Games. AU. Shameless Clato fluff. Oneshot.


**Title: Out of the Ordinary**

**Rating: T**

**Pairing: Clove/Cato**

**Summary: "If this was your last night to live, what would you do?" The childhood best friends from District 2 have a talk the night before the Games. AU. Shameless Clato fluff.**

**A/N: Ugh, what am I doing? I have a multi-chap I should have updated 3 weeks ago and I come out with this? What is wrong with me? **

**Anyway, my terrible author skills aside, I take my first stab at the Hunger Games fandom. Clato has just latched on to my heart and refuses to let go. After reading Clato for a couple hours, I came up with this. I know this has been done to death, but I wanted to show my take on it. Not proofread because I am really freaking tired right now and should stop posting stuff like this at Stupid o'clock at night. Also, it's probably really OOC. But whatever. I don't really care. Just let me go to sleep.**

**Disclaimer: Trust me, after this, you'll be glad I don't own it.**

* * *

><p>Cato observes the way the lights of the Capitol night dance in Clove's dark hair. It's not the first time he's done it. Every night for the past two weeks they've sat in the window sill and talked about nothing. She smiles when she can feel him looking, knowing he's silently memorizing her. You know, in case he doesn't make it out. Or she doesn't.<p>

No, they don't talk about that. Ever.

"You need to stop staring." Clove says with a smile, "I can't possibly be this interesting."

"You're right." Cato lets his lips form a small grin, "I've been staring at you for the past 12 years. I thought I would have lost interest by now."

She leans a little closer to him, but still leaving a large distance between them. They always start at different edges of the window sill. By the end of the night, they're leaning against each other, fighting to keep their eyes open. Then they would part for their separate rooms, knowing they'll see each other again in the morning. Clove doesn't think they'll part tonight. She thinks they'll fall asleep together on the cold metal of this window sill.

"I don't understand why you still hang around me. Especially now, what with your new friend Marvelous Marvel only a floor down." She mimics the Capitol accent when she says 'Marvelous Marvel'. Caesar Flickerman says it once and suddenly it sticks. Marvel has been nothing but that for the past few days.

"I wouldn't want to interrupt his last night with Glimmer. Who knows the next time he'll get some." They both smile. Glimmer and Marvel could not be any more obvious with their 'secret relationship' (They like to think they have the Capitol fooled, but they know as much of the rest of them do). Clove caught them making out a half hour before their interviews a few days before. The stylists were not impressed with having to redo hair.

"He'll be fine. He and Glimmer could live it up for the cameras in the arena. Spread some attention to the real winners for a change instead of the 'Star- Crossed Lover from District 12'"

"District 12 is just desperate for some attention that isn't both of their tributes being the first ones out of the Games. They've probably had it planned out for months."

"Or that drunken fool of a mentor thought of it in a state of unconsciousness."

"That too." Clove loves the nights like these the most. It's like they're kids again, betting pieces of gum on the tributes. Clove always went for the prettiest looking ones while Cato always went with the one with the sword. He used to brag saying he could take any of them down in a heartbeat if he had the chance. Finnick Odair was always Cato's least favourite. He vowed to punch his lights out if he ever saw him. Clove never really understood why Finnick was such a bother to him, though she never really asked.

"I could take Haymitch down. How hard could it be?" There goes the cocky attitude again. Something Clove has become accustomed to over the years.

"He could be one of those angry drunks like your uncle was."

"Even then, I could take him. He'd have sloppy footwork and no sense of balance. Come on, Clove. Give me a challenge here." He glances at her with a cocky grin that she can't help loving. She's always loved it.

"Could you take me?" she questions with an equally cocky grin thrown in his direction.

He looks her over once more. "Probably could. You're not that tough." He gets a playful whack for that one and he chuckles. "I'd take you now, but I wouldn't want to hurt you the night before."

"Oh, you wouldn't hurt me Cato. I'd probably hurt you. My stylists keep my nails long and I'm not afraid to leave marks in your back."

Oh she caught the innuendo. He hoped that she would. He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "I would hope you leave marks. Show everyone your mine."

"No way. I'd be the possessive one in a relationship between us."

"You're not doing a very good job. Didn't you see that District 7 girl giving me the love eyes today? Where were you then?"

Cato doesn't know that she's at the top of her kill list. But it's not like she's jealous. It's Cato. He's like her brother. She isn't like in love with him or anything. She just… cares very deeply for him.

"I was actually training, unlike you who was provoking every tribute that you could. I'm surprised that Thresh guy didn't punch your face in."

"Because he knew he was in the presence of the winner. He didn't want to screw up his chances of maybe being spared by me." Cato rolls his eyes like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

There's now little space between them on the sill, close enough for Clove to feel the heat radiating from Cato's thigh. It's comforting, knowing he's alive right now. They can remember this in the arena; the carefreeness of this last night in the middle of the dark looking out at the sadistic Capitol.

They fall into a silence for a while, just breathing and being with a little peace in mind. Who knows when they'll get another chance.

"Is this how you wanted to spend your last night?" Cato asks.

Clove tilts her head to look at him and brushes her dark hair out of her face. "Not like I really had a choice."

"No, I mean if this really was your last night alive, what would you do? Would you actually spend it with me, joking around until the morning or would you do something else?"

"Would this be assuming that I could do anything I want no matter how ridiculous?"

"It's you. How out of the blue could your wish be?"

"You'd be surprised, Cato."

"Try me. What would you do?" he's like a hopeful little kid, eyes looking at her with curiosity and an innocent, lazy smile on his lips.

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I want to know."

"Well what would you do?"

"I asked first." He protests.

"But now I want to know."

Cato sighs. "You're infuriating, you know that?"

"You tell me sometimes." She replies with a smirk.

He pauses to think for a few seconds before he says "I'd spend it with you."

"Really? Not with your family, not off on some insane adventure that could get you killed?"

"No. Just you. Just like this actually."

"Why? It seems so ordinary."

"It's like the calm before the storm, you know? I can just be myself before having to be the killing machine that they expect me to be."

She regards him carefully. It's hard to imagine him as anything but this after living with it for so long. It's hard to imagine that she'll have to be that same killing machine come morning. This is her last night to be.

"What would you do, dear imaginative Clove?"

"This." She replies automatically. "Just you and me being ourselves for one last night."

"What happened to being imaginative? I'm kind of disappointed actually."

"Some things shouldn't be reality. I don't want much and I shouldn't ask for much."

Cao nods slowly, understandingly. She glances at him. There is one thing that she would like that shouldn't happen.

"There is one thing I would change though." She mentions.

"What's that?"

"I'd like you to kiss me." She states boldly. If she's shy about it that would just waste the precious minutes of a night they won't get back. She just jumps in, no matter how out of the blue it may seem,

"Kiss you? You want me to kiss you?" he repeats it for confirmation since he's slightly confused.

She nods into the shining lights of the city below. "You don't have to. Just suggesting." She's mentally hopeful though.

Cato's hazel eyes watch her breathe for a moment before asking "You really want that?"

She thinks about it for a moment. What is there to lose? It's not likely they'll both make it out of the arena alive, so that saves the awkwardness in the future. They have a persona to play for the cameras and they won't be able to show whatever may happen after this kiss. It's like a dying wish for her, just she isn't dying. Yet. "Yeah, call it my last plea from the Great and Mighty Cato." She turns to him, head slightly tilted and expects him to lean in.

He hesitates.

"You doing this or not?" she demands.

'You're sure?"

"For God's sake, Cato. It's just a kiss, it's not like we're sleeping together."

"Okay, okay. Fine." He starts to lean in and stops about halfway to Clove's awaiting lips. "You're su-"

Her hand comes to the back of his head and pushes him the rest of the way.

His lips are soft against hers, unmoving and only savoring. She's doing all the work (as she expected. Cato does seem like the kind of person who would let her do all the work in a kiss) and she sighs when she feels him start to reciprocate. It's nothing extreme or hot or anything. It just feels like… a kiss. She finds it hard to explain even to herself. His hand comes to the back of her neck, keeping her in place as she slowly takes control. She gladly lets him, not willing to fight it.

They pull away slowly after a couple minutes, their hands keeping their places on each other. Their foreheads rest together and Clove keeps her eyes closed despite not remembering closing them.

"Good enough?" Cato whispers.

She breaths in and out a couple times, letting the realization that she just kissed Cato wash over her. Holy crap, she _just _kissed Cato. Her childhood best friend, her partner in the Games. Wow. "More than enough."

She kisses him again, not wanting the feeling to leave just yet. She does pull away though, not wanting to lose too much of herself.

"No one will know." She whispers as a simple rule for him.

"No one."

All she wants is to keep it as the one thing they can keep between each other. She'll take it to the grave if she has to.

(She does)

* * *

><p><strong>So yeah, yell at me in the reviews if you hate it or say something nice if you like it. Either way, review. Seriously, I've forgotten what it feels like to get one after like 5 bijillion years without one.<strong>


End file.
